


Comfort Food

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Cooking, Developing Relationship, Food, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Felipe's feeling down, Rob cooks something to cheer him up. That simple act of kindness sets off a chain reaction and fires up the long-burning spark between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort Food

**Author's Note:**

> Huge love and thanks to gemjam for her beta skills and awesome friendship. Also this fic is slightly AU in that Rob and Lucy were married but divorced amicably.

 

 

Felipe was moping. Rob sighed and put his stack of papers down. It was impossible to concentrate when Felipe looked like that, so fucking wrecked. It'd been a shitty race last weekend and the practice sessions for this one hadn't gone much better, so the Brazilian was no doubt lost in dark thoughts about his future prospects. Nothing Rob said helped at all and it made him feel fucking terrible.

 

That night he got back to his hotel room and stared at the walls for far too long. Then he grabbed an old data sheet and started scribbling a list on the back of it. It was a fucking crazy idea – the kitchen staff were going to think he'd lost his mind. But it'd definitely get some kind of reaction out of Felipe, and that was what was important.

 

So Rob legged it down to the front desk and talked to the concierge about his idea. The concierge laughed and didn't look bewildered at all. If anything, he looked delighted. He was probably used to really outlandish requests from guests; this was more of a peculiar walk in the park. Rob got to work that night, pulling his Mum’s old recipe from memory and enjoying the silence of an empty kitchen. Thank God for F1's weird fucking hours.

 

The next day, he dropped a sealed plastic container next to Felipe as they watched the screens in the Ferrari garage. Felipe's expression puckered with confusion. The deadened look briefly lifted from his eyes, that was something.

 

“Eat up, it'll fill a corner,” Rob told him.

 

Felipe looked even more confused. “Catering, something is wrong there?”

 

“Not as far as I know.” Rob nudged him, fingers clenching his clipboard, just a little. “It’s all right. I know what I’m doing with a bit of mince and potato.”

 

Felipe looked as though he was two seconds away from calling the medics, but instead he peeled off the lid and raised his eyebrows at the warm steamy smell that wafted out. Rob handed him a plastic fork.

 

“I don’t make this for just anyone, you know.”

 

It was his best bit of verbal persuasion. Felipe liked being treated specially. It was usually Fernando who got the perks. Rob bit back the full breadth of his smile as Felipe shovelled up the shepherd’s pie, those long-held frown lines starting to melt away. Job done.

 

“Is good,” Felipe pronounced, handing the empty box back.

 

“Cheers. It’s a recipe of me Mum’s; you know, potatoes with butter and cheese, a bit of Worcester sauce and gravy granules in the beef, and you’ve got a kitchen smelling like heaven.”

 

Felipe nodded and patted Rob’s shoulder. “I still not know why you cook it.”

 

“I had a spare evening,” Rob nudged him. “Figured it’d either make you laugh or cry.”

 

The fact that either reaction would have been preferable to Felipe’s recent utter misery went unsaid, but Felipe seemed to get it, his expression pinching. He shifted so that his shoulder was pressed against Rob’s. The contact felt warm and strong and like something that Rob wanted a whole lot more of.

 

*

 

A week or so later, when Rob made his way to the pit wall, he found a cardboard box full of warm food waiting on his seat. There was shrimp and rice and the whole thing smelled strongly of coconut. It looked like a curry, it tasted outstanding. There was a plastic fork in the box and Rob made good use of it. He knew how tight security was around here and he worked for Ferrari; so if a mysterious box was at his station, it was because it was supposed to be there. The food tasted seriously delicious, all he needed was a good hunk of bread to mop it up with and it'd be perfect.

 

“Is _mãe_ 's recipe, is the best.”

 

Rob turned to find Felipe, suited up for racing with mirrored sunglasses and a careful sort of smile on his face. A familiar warmth unfolded inside of Rob. He knew his grin was most likely moronic, Felipe did that to him. But Felipe had also done this for him. The urge to just reach out for Felipe was ridiculously strong, but Rob reigned himself in. There were a lot of cameras about for a start.

 

He shoved another forkful of warm coconut-flavoured goodness into his mouth, just in case the urge overtook him. “So I've got you to thank for this, then?”

 

Felipe nodded. “Is my mother's recipe, _bobó de camarão._ Always she make far too much. You never stop eating so...”

 

Rob raised his stained fork towards Felipe's pristine racing suit, his threat clear. The warmth inside of him was growing; Felipe might not have cooked for Rob but he'd brought him a dish made by his mother. That was still pretty personal.

 

The urge to get closer remained with Rob, overwhelmingly so, because he loaded up the fork again and said “Want a bite?”

 

He couldn't see Felipe's eyes, but Rob got the feeling that Felipe was looking right at him as he leaned in to wrap his lips around the offered food, his tongue briefly visible. A zing of heat shot up Rob's spine and he was pretty sure that what he was feeling was very obvious, particularly to somebody who knew him as well as Felipe. Felipe didn't comment though, and he didn't pull back, he stayed right in Rob's personal space, the air between them smelling of coconut, herbs, and expensive aftershave.

 

Rob swallowed. He was sort of hoping to stay stuck in that moment for a good long time, but the race was coming up soon and Felipe needed to get ready. They seemed to be as in-sync as always because Felipe's expression shifted and he looked like he was about to disappear onto the track. Before he did though, his thumb pressed against Rob's polo shirt, briefly slipping past the fabric to graze his bare skin. Definitely deliberate, and it made Rob’s breath catch. God, Rob wished he could see Felipe's eyes.

 

But Felipe was already walking away, slipping his earpieces in and shifting into race-mode. He'd chosen to spend his last pre-race moments with Rob.

 

Rob scraped the box clean and slipped the plastic fork into his pocket, determined to shove all personal-Felipe thoughts away for now. They had a race to win.

 

*

 

Lucy picked up after only a couple of rings, her voice shouting something indistinct to Felix as she did. Rob smiled; she might be his ex but she never stopped making him smile with her immense ability to juggle everything in her still-hectic life. It was what he did every day, after all. He always maintained that Lucy did it better.

 

“Congrats on the podium,” she said, as soon as she’d caught her breath again.

 

“Cheers…”

 

Rob let the barely-started conversation tail off as he tried to work out what it was he wanted to say. He could do that with Lucy, she was the one who said that sometimes silence was best all round. Right now, Rob needed a bit of that, it’d been a mad old day and his brain felt cooked. It wasn’t the only thing that did, his chest still felt warm. Frankly, Rob had been feeling heat for a while now, under his skin, demanding to be recognised. He’d managed to keep that heat buried nice and deep for years so that it wouldn’t affect his work. So what if he fancied Felipe? The guy had enough on his plate already, and plenty of beautiful girls and boys throwing themselves at him. What would he want with his scruffy engineer? Christ.

 

But now, the heat was getting too strong for Rob to bury or ignore any longer, all sparked off by a little shepherd’s pie and the barest of thumb-strokes. It was affecting his sleep too; it was affecting him every time he saw Felipe.

 

It felt important.

 

“Felipe,” he said at last. “There’s been food, personal-like, and something…well, it won’t stay quiet anymore.”

 

Lucy hummed for a second under her breath, accompanied by the sound of pen scribbling on paper. She was doing several things at once, naturally. “Progress. That’s good to hear.”

 

Rob cracked a smile, of course Lucy wasn’t surprised. He could always count on her to be the steady baseline he needed when things were a little fractious. He only hoped that he provided her with the same. They might not be married anymore but they were still partners.

 

“Got your spies out, have you?”

 

Lucy snorted. He loved her inelegance, he always would. “You two have been doing this dance for a while now.”

 

Rob rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. As always, Lucy was saying a lot with only a handful of words. He appreciated that, it was his bread and butter after all. It shoved light in deliberately dark places too. Once exposed, he couldn’t ignore what was there, not with Lucy. And she was right of course.

 

He grinned lopsidedly down the phone. “So you’re saying I should get a move on?”

 

“I’m saying he adores you, Rob.” Her tone was frank and even, as though her statement was the simplest thing in the world. It made Rob’s hear skitter. “I’m saying you’d be an idiot not to make a move. And the father of my kids is no idiot.”

 

Lucy and Felipe had always gotten along. That had never disturbed Rob; it had only made him happy. He could feel that warmth again, the warmth that Felipe had filled him with for a while, years if he was totally honest. It was hottest where Felipe’s thumb had touched.

 

“So what colours am I painting your nails next week?”

 

“Ferrari red.”

 

*

 

It was far too early, but Rob should have been used to that by now. Still, he squinted out at the sun and buried his nose in a coffee cup. Thank fuck he was sat down. Once he’d mainlined some caffeine, he’d be able to actually take in the facts and figures that were sprawled across the garage screens. As always, he had a lot of work to do.

 

A pastry was pressed into his hand. Wait, not a pastry, a bread roll. Felipe was walking past, a mobile phone tucked against his ear. His smile was lingering and heated and Rob had to concentrate so that he didn’t drop his coffee. Fuck.

 

 _“Pão de queijo,”_ Felipe said, hand covering the phone’s mouthpiece. “Breakfast.”

 

He was off before Rob could reply, all red and white and a fantastic rear view. Eventually Rob realised that he should probably look away – fuck, he needed more coffee; he wasn’t usually this bad – and bit into Felipe’s gift. Cheese melted across his tongue. It was good, and went really well with the coffee.

 

Rob forced himself to focus on the screens again, beginning to take notes as the caffeine brought him properly online. He didn’t brush the crumbs off his shirt though.

 

*

 

“Rob!”

 

Felipe’s voice stopped him dead. Rob turned slowly, surprised to see Felipe there in the track’s carpark. Surely he’d be out celebrating by now? Rob could see plenty of neon lights and people laughing and cheering, the usual post-race celebrations. Rob would probably be joining them himself once he’d stowed his gear, and had showered and changed. Decompressing after a race was pretty important, it always helped him sleep.

 

Felipe slowed to a stop in front of Rob, his sunglasses tucked into his shirt pocket. He looked good in a well-cut suit the colour of pencil lead with a creamy-white shirt. His hair was always hopeless; Rob had always liked that about him. He liked how Felipe had never quite lost the appearance of a naughty boy. He liked how Felipe looked in the moonlight.

 

He smiled at his driver, all that warmth and heat wending its way through him again. Was this another step of their dance? Lucy would probably say so.

 

“What, no dinner?” he joked, affection clear in his voice.

 

Felipe spread his arms slightly, revealing empty hands. Rob’s breath caught a little, because wasn’t Felipe a spectacular sight? Wasn’t he always? But right now, in the moonlight, in the post-race haze, in a gorgeous tailored suit, with his eyes full of Rob, Felipe was particularly amazing.

 

God, Rob had been thinking that for such a long time. How long had Felipe been looking at him like that?

 

Felipe slid a few steps closer, tucking himself right into Rob’s personal space as though he belonged there. There was no food smell between them this time, just fresh mint like mouthwash, Rob’s day-long sweat, and Felipe’s ubiquitous aftershave. It was very much them and Rob huffed out a laugh. He couldn't take his eyes off Felipe and his sly wonderful smile.

 

Hadn’t it always been like this between them? The give and take and close contact?

 

Rob could feel Felipe’s arm brushing against his like a warning shot. Maybe that was the point. Felipe leaned closer; the smell of mint getting stronger. What had he eaten that had compelled him to drown in mouthwash afterwards? Rob’s lips started to quirk upwards.

 

He didn’t have to say anything. Felipe could read him perfectly. A scowl flittered briefly across the Brazilian’s face, but he didn’t put any space between them.

 

“I try to make that pie, the potatoes and meat you give me,” he admitted into the strung-tight silence.

 

Rob’s lips moved even further upward. So while he’d been feeling the continual aftermath of Felipe’s touch, it seemed that Felipe had been consumed by the ghost of Rob’s taste. Pleasure burned through Rob at the thought. Very nice.

 

He could practically see Lucy rolling her eyes and saying _you’re not an idiot, remember?_

 

Because Rob could read Felipe better than anybody, and what Felipe was now projecting was clear as day – no cover-ups, no deflections. Felipe’s want and care was like a beacon. How could Rob ever refuse that? Especially since it pulsed in time with what he himself was feeling. Rob wrapped an arm around Felipe’s neck, loose and possessive, watching as Felipe slid both arms around Rob’s waist in return. More dance steps.

 

Felipe was holding him firmly and guiding his head down slowly, giving Rob an out if he wanted one. As if. Their lips fused together and Felipe eagerly licked into Rob’s mouth, desperate for a taste. He wasn’t the only one.

 

Together, in the moonlight, they opened up and danced.

 

_-the end_


End file.
